In the beating silence, she heard the lawn edger being laid on the grass. She felt Rex’s presence as he drew close. There was a smell of mint toothpaste as he said softly, “Did you think I didn’t realize something was up?”

Rex held out his hand and placed it on her shoulder. It was the first time anyone had touched her in a very long time, and the relief was so intense that grief came shuddering up through her body, and tears slanted her cheeks. She had thrown away everything.

“Why don’t you come over, and I’ll put the kettle on?” he said.

♦

Maureen had not stepped inside Rex’s house since Elizabeth’s funeral. In the intervening months, she had imagined there would be a felting of dust and a general level of mess, because these were not things men noticed; especially when mourning. But to her astonishment the surfaces shone. Potted cacti stood at intervals along the windowsill, so regular it was as if he had measured them with a ruler. There was no pile of unopened letters. No muddy steps on the mushroom carpet. It even looked as if Rex had bought himself a length of plastic protector and laid it down as a path from the front door, because she was certain it wasn’t there when Elizabeth was alive. Maureen checked her face in the circular mirror, and blew her nose. She looked pale and tired, and her nose glowed like a warning light. She wondered what her son would say about her weeping in front of a neighbour. She tried so hard not to cry when she talked to David.

Rex called out from the kitchen that she should wait in the sitting room.

“Are you sure I can’t do anything to help?” she said, but he insisted again that she should make herself comfortable.

The sitting room, like the hall, was so quiet and undisturbed Maureen felt her presence was an intrusion. She made her way to the mantelpiece and glanced at the framed photographs of Elizabeth. She had been a tall woman with a bovine jaw, a gravelly laugh and the distracted look of a guest at a cocktail party. Maureen had never said this to anyone except David, but she had always felt a little overpowered by Elizabeth. She wasn’t even sure she liked her.

There was a rattling of cups and the door nudged open. She turned and found Rex at the doorway with a tray. He poured the tea without spilling and had even remembered a jug of milk.

Once she started, it surprised Maureen how much she had to say about Harold’s walk. She told Rex about Queenie’s letter, and his sudden decision to leave. She told him about the visit to the locum, and her shame. “I’m frightened he won’t come back,” she said at last.